


The Disney Stories

by Ballroom_of_the_Damned_and_Delirious, Just_Peachy (Ballroom_of_the_Damned_and_Delirious)



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Princess and the Frog (2009), The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996), The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Bestiality, Disney, Disney Movies, F/F, F/M, Gen, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ballroom_of_the_Damned_and_Delirious/pseuds/Ballroom_of_the_Damned_and_Delirious, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ballroom_of_the_Damned_and_Delirious/pseuds/Just_Peachy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Disney Kink Meme. All chapters will be one-offs and will have the story they're from in the title with the prompt in the beginning notes. I just decided to make this one "story" to organize it better.</p><p>If stories are not explicit I will specify that in the chapter title too. Otherwise, just assume that they are at least mature if not explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're my Dream Now - Princess and the Frog

**Author's Note:**

> Charlotte & Tiana fall for each other, and they have to find a way to tell Big Daddy.
> 
> First femslash fic. Go easy on me, please, and let me know if there are things I could improve upon. :)

They knew there was little chance in hell or New Orleans where this could work. Too many prying eyes. Too much hatred. Not only were they from two different classes, social castes, but they also were two races and two women. 

Charlotte La Bouff plays at being a princess and dreams, used to dream, of a fantasy life she would never have. White and affluent, Charlotte sometimes acted every bit a spoiled lady, but everyone knew she had a good heart. They smiled at the way she doted on the girl, Tiana, knowing that at least the girl had found a decent maid for herself for the future. If she was to be a bride to a handsome man, she would need one of those. This never occurred to Charlotte, blind as she was to the horrors of the South. She always was an idealist.

Tiana Rose works hard and lives simply. An African American in the south, she is lucky when she gets left alone. Though she cannot help some of the remarks people make about her character or her features, she can choose to ignore them and think of the few important reasons she does not seek an easier life in the North. White people often praised her for working hard and making a living for herself, considering her people according to them are lazy and abominations. She never did it for her own reputation, though. She has her own dream: to open up a restaurant just as her daddy always wanted, right on the river. She knew people whispered about her relationship with Charlotte -how could they not?- even though they knew very little and all they had to entertain themselves was good old-fashioned speculation and gossip.

At twilight, though, on the soft, comfy mattress in Charlotte's extravagant room, those people never mattered. Charlotte's father welcomed her into their home as a good family friend, and she often was invited to dinner. Afterward, Tiana and Charlotte retired to Charlotte's room. Their relationship had been developing for quite some time, until both of them realized feelings for each other that they could never feel for any one else. 

"But what about my prince?!" Charlotte said, tears rolling down her cheeks after she and Tiana both admitted what they felt for each other. 

"You still have him. I would never take that away from you, Lottie." Tiana took a deep breath. This was harder than she ever dreamed it could be. "But this...what we have, it's...look, when your perfect prince comes and sweeps you off your feet to ride into the sunset, you will have my blessing."

Charlotte leaned in. Tiana could feel the other girl's warm breath on her lips. "You would do that? For me? Even if we have what we have? You would give it all away for..."

"Your happiness," Tiana finished for her, even though it hurt to say it. She knew they could never work, anyway. A rich white person, a poor black person, both women and falling in love? No. Tiana shut that mental door a long time before she and Charlotte even considered being together.

Charlotte appeared to be thinking. Her nose wrinkled and her lips pursed in just the way Tiana thought was so attractive. Charlotte turned out to be very bright, for all her fantasies. She reached her hand up to brush a curl behind Charlotte's ear, and heard "Oh, Tiana," before lips were on hers. The first kiss sent both hearts racing, and both lost all worries about the future or how improper this was - _they_ were - and just reveled in each other.

*

A year passed, and Charlotte and Tiana grew more emotionally close. They worked hard to keep themselves a secret from the town, finding that quite the feat to achieve. There were still whispers, but when they were both out shopping or eating, or when Charlotte and the mayor were eating at one of the many restaurants at which Tiana worked, all they did was flash each other winks and secret smiles. Tiana forced Charlotte long ago - when Charlotte was naive enough to believe that maybe with time they would be accepted by the townsfolk - to come to terms with the fact that their relationship would not be okay. Ever. Charlotte cried then, too. Perhaps her emotions and passion were reasons Tiana loved her.

One night, they lay beside each other in the darkness, both with the tops of their dresses down about their waists. Charlotte had her head between Tiana's breasts, just resting, listening to her breathing. As Tiana kissed her hair softly, Charlotte whispered, "I love you," and planted a butterfly kiss on the closest skin she could. She truly felt it, and had no idea why she decided right then to say it. Tiana was down-to-Earth, intelligent, and had a passion for life that rivaled her own. Charlotte loved her for how hard Tiana worked for her dream, and loved that she had such a wonderful dream. Charlotte loved Tiana's stories of her father, and the fact that she would tell all those old fairy tales to get Charlotte to fall asleep. She decided firmly her feelings earlier that morning, when Tiana's face simply lit up at the idea that she would be paid enough for a few beignets at a fancy dress party to put a down payment on the building for her restaurant. The way Tiana's eyes shined and her hand fluttered on her chest as if she thought it might not be real made Charlotte very nearly lose control. In front of all those people she wanted to scream how much she loved Tiana and she wanted to jump on her and kiss her. She contained herself, but only just.

Tiana paused, her breath caught in her throat. She did not expect this. Of course she didn't. She loved Charlotte, sure, but she always feared to admit it because she knew - thought she knew - that the feeling would never be reciprocated. Despite the fact that Charlotte would someday leave her for a Prince, Tiana fell in love with the girl. She did not know if there were any logic to her love, which seemed odd to her because she always approached things practically. Maybe it was Charlotte's hope for humanity, or maybe her dreams of true love. Perhaps Tiana loved Charlotte's generosity, her compassion, the way she smiled when she made someone happy, no matter how small a thing it was. How could she respond? "I love you, too, Lottie." She smiled as she said it, and felt Charlotte smile wide against her chest. Charlotte lifted herself, and Tiana accepted her kiss very eagerly.

*

"We have to tell him," Charlotte said matter-of-factly the next day when she and Tiana were strolling about the La Bouff's vast garden. 

"Who?" Tiana asked, though from the dread filled feeling in the pit of her stomach she had an idea as to who Charlotte was talking about. She did not pause the stroll, but felt her legs weaken at the thought.

Charlotte sighed, "We have to tell big daddy." 

Tiana shook her head, sadly. What would be the point? Charlotte knew as well as she did that their relationship would not last, no matter how filled with love both of them were for the other. Charlotte guided them to a white bench in an alcove hidden from prying eyes. Once they were seated, Charlotte looked deep into Tiana's eyes. "Look, Tiana," she said, and poked a finger into her lover's chest, "we can't keep this from him." 

"Why? This won't last anyway," Tiana trained her eyes on her lap, careful to not let her emotion show. Charlotte's finger tilted her chin up to meet those eyes the colour of a clear sky, and to meet those lips soft as a flower petal.

"Why wouldn't it?" Charlotte asked her, and at Tiana's look she drew away and put her hands up in silent admission. She knew the complications, she said, and she assured Tiana that they could still keep it a secret from everyone else for right now. Despite all her pleas and reassurances, Tiana saw one glaring problem.

"And your dream?" She could not keep the negativity from her voice. "Your prince? You seemed very excited about having a prince in town yesterday." 

Charlotte was very silent, barely moved even. The only sound heard was little tweets from the springtime birds' nests. Finally, she spoke, "I've been thinking about that." She took Tiana's hands in hers and made Tiana look into her eyes once again, loving her wide eyes dark as milk chocolate. Tiana tilted her head slightly sideways in curiosity, and Charlotte sucked in breath and let it out slowly. "I don't... _need_ a prince, any more."

"But, you..."

Charlotte quickly interrupted. "Well, I was excited, and then I decided I loved you. You just looked so ecstatic that you found your dream and I realized all I want is you and then I thought about it and I said I love you. You said you loved me and my mind started working and I thought about it and I decided that I don't need a prince because you're all the princess I'll ever need and I can't let go of you like I thought I could and that's not my dream any more anyway." She stopped abruptly and breathed. Tiana doubted Charlotte even took a breath during that entire diatribe, but she barely noticed that, busy as she was reeling from the words pouring from Charlotte. Then Charlotte said, "You're my dream now."

Those four words, and Tiana lost herself in her love. At that moment, she forgot about the practicality and forgot about telling Charlotte's father. She forgot her skepticism of fairy tales. She just wanted Charlotte, and as she sank into her lover, their tongues dancing, her Lottie was the only person that existed.

*

Charlotte danced with Prince Naveen, all smiles, that evening at the masquerade. Tiana had eyes only for Lottie, watching as whisps of her light golden hair popped free of her coiffure as she danced with man after man. Tiana herself stood behind the beignet table, ready to serve them to any party-goer who wanted them. She smiled widely as the Finner's came up in their horse costume, knowing she would finalize her ownership of her building. They broke their bad news to her, bad feelings were had with a costume malfunction, and before she knew it she was on the ground surrounded and covered by beignets, forlornly staring into the grass. 

"Tia! Tia!" Charlotte bounced over excitedly, but when she noticed Tiana in on the ground she immediately turned serious. She helped Tiana up and took her to the bedroom, where she ascertained that Tiana was not hurt and grabbed her a new dress to wear. When Tiana was fully changed, Charlotte stared at her with a soft look. "Well, look at you. Pretty as a magnolia in May. What happened?" 

They sat on the edge of the bed, and Tiana stared sadly at her hands. "I was almost there, and then I lost it. They gave my dream away to someone else." 

Charlotte kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, honey. That's terrible of them! Don't worry. I'm sure we can find you another place even nicer than that!" 

Tiana offered her a faint smile. "Thanks, Lottie," and she lay her head on Charlotte's proffered shoulder as Charlotte stroked her hair.

"Not to add to your worries, but," Charlotte said, "I think tonight is a perfect night to tell him. He'll be slightly drunk and I'm hoping in such a good mood we can convince him it's okay." 

Tiana nodded, resigned to the fact that Charlotte would tell her daddy inevitably. They both agreed earlier that day that sooner was better than later. After a party couldn't be the worst time possible. A shout was heard from downstairs, and Tiana said quietly, "You should go back."

"You come too. You look like a princess. I'm sure the men will be lining up!" Charlotte joked, and stood. Their arms linked, the girls made their way back downstairs. "Back into the fray!"

*

"We have something to tell you, daddy," Charlotte stepped into the parlour, Tiana close behind. The mayor sat in an armchair, a scotch in one hand, and a cigar in the other. 

"Hiya, princess!" He addressed them both jovially. "Hello, Miss Tiana." He offered a nod of his head in place of the usual shallow bow. He had always been more pleasant to her than any one else in this town had been. Perhaps this wouldn't go so badly. She had her worries. She could potentially be thrown out a window. She didn't realistically think this man capable, but she still worried. What Charlotte wanted Charlotte usually got, though, so maybe if Tiana kept absolutely quiet... 

Charlotte smiled, and took Tiana's hand. The mayor glanced briefly at that. He probably thought it was just a manifestation of their friendship. "Tiana and I...we..." she faltered as her father raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes?" the mayor asked curiously, looking into the eyes of one woman and then the other, wondering about the fuss.

Charlotte looked imploringly at Tiana, and Tiana gulped and squared her shoulders. "We're together," she announced, looking the man square in the eyes.

The mayor's mouth opened a little, and worked as he thought this over. Charlotte and Tiana both waited in anticipation, and the silence lasted for so long that they both jumped when he suddenly laughed. "That's a good trick, girls!" He wiped his eyes as if his laughter brought on tears, and Charlotte stepped forward.

"It's not a joke, daddy!" She said as she let go of Tiana's hand to approach him. His laugh stopped as quickly as it had begun as he stared at his daughter. "I love her," she said defiantly.

His eyes roved over her, and then over Tiana, and back to her, and he swallowed. "What?"

"I love her, and she loves me," Charlotte walked back over and took Tiana's hands once more. "We want to be together."

"But...how...the prince?" Tiana could see him trying to work through it in his head, trying to understand.

"The prince?" Charlotte made a face and waved the notion away. "No. The prince is not my future. Tiana is."

The mayor finished off his drink and set the glass down, taking long pulls from his cigar. Charlotte fidgeted, not able to keep silent for long, and her daddy gave her a look that made her hold completely still. Tiana squeezed her hand for comfort, both Charlotte's and her own. At that, Charlotte drew closer to Tiana, as if seeking her light, her protection. They could not say anything, as neither knew what his judgment over it would be. Hard as that was for Charlotte, she realized she couldn't talk her way out of this quite as easily.

"Well, it's unorthodox," the mayor finally said, and Tiana's eyes widened very visibly. This was not the calm reaction she expected, but she saw Charlotte's face begin to crack into a smile. He continued, "You won't be able to tell very many people." Charlotte nodded, and when he looked at Tiana, Tiana nodded too. He thought some more. "You won't be able to get married, to have children..."

This struck Charlotte, and her ever-widening smile and ever-growing hope faltered a little. When she looked at her love, though, she drew strength from Tiana and drew herself up to her most proper representation of womanhood. "I know, daddy."

The mayor stroked his strawberry-blonde moustache, and smiled at his daughter. "I suppose there's no convincing you otherwise, and Tiana," he gave Tiana a nod, "is a much better choice than some of the others I've seen you make eyes at. Practical. Hard-working."

Tiana seemed to be the only one to notice the resigned tone to his voice, as Charlotte simply squealed and jumped on her father to embrace him. "Thank you, big daddy! Thank you! Thank you!"

She bounced back to Tiana and flashed her a look of "I told you so!" before they both settled down and had a long conversion with Mayor La Bouff about how this entire situation would work.

*

When they went back to Charlotte's room, there were not words. Charlotte took Tiana's face in her hands and kissed her. It was a soft kiss at first, and then she nudged her tongue into Tiana's mouth and drank her taste and her sent. They backed up to the bed and Charlotte spread herself on top of Tiana as they kissed. Both kissed and licked and nibbled ears and neck and collarbone. Tiana blew into Charlotte's ear and relished Charlotte's lusty gasp, and Charlotte began to move down her body. Planting kisses all along the outside of Tiana's dress, Charlotte pulled it up from the ankles to rest at her hips.

Charlotte spread Tiana's legs, and sat between them, staring down at Tiana's nethers. She smiled slightly, and touched her fingers to Tiana's lips, softly caressing all she could touch. Tiana gasped in acquiescence, and Charlotte leaned over to put her nose into coarse curls to flick her tongue at Tiana's clit. Thighs flexed around her head, and she applied her tongue more confidently, exploring with it every part of her lover. Slowly, Charlotte worked a finger into Tiana, and as Tiana's hips bucked Charlotte supported her buttocks with her free hand. Her lips started working with her tongue, and she inserted another finger into Tiana. She rubbed vigorously in and out, moving around inside her lover as she'd done in the past to herself, and felt Tiana's hands on the back of her head, pressing her onward. It thrilled her that she had this effect, and she did everything in her power to make Tiana lose herself as Charlotte had heard could happen to women in the bedroom. No one ever told her outright, but she gleaned enough from whispered conversations.

Three fingers in, and Charlotte had to sit back, hike her skirt up, and rub herself vigorously with her other hand. Her hands working hard, Charlotte was pulled forward and Tiana kissed her deeply. Tiana felt all her muscles clench, and felt her mouth open in a silent scream. It was like fireworks surged through her body, and she swore she levitated off the bed. Gasping, she kissed her lover, and felt Charlotte gasping slowly as she ground her wet pussy against Tiana's thigh, trying to get her own pleasure. Tiana smiled up at her, and reached over to stroke Charlotte's clit, making Charlotte clench.

When they looked at each other in the candlelit room, they looked at each other with so much emotion and love that the sheer feeling of it almost sent Charlotte over the edge and into the throes of her own orgasm. 

With a little work on Tiana's part, it wasn't long until it was Charlotte's turn to silently scream.

As they drifted down from heaven together, legs and arms heavily intertwined, they shared their silent vows of love. The world would never come between them now.


	2. Name of the Beast - Beauty and the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and the Beast. I've wanted to read this for so long I decided to just write it myself.

Belle fell back into her plush mattress, sighed comfortably, and gazed up at the ceiling.

"Did you have a good evening with the prince, dear?" Gertrude, the wardrobe, spoke from the corner. It was nothing she hadn't heard before: the Beast is a prince. He had not told her his name, yet, but she assumed that would come in time. 

"I've been teaching him to read," Belle explained, and nodded as she closed her eyes. The winter had been cold, the castle stone not helping matters, so she and the Beast spent all their time in front of the hearth in the library on a soft wolf fur rug. The fire kept them warm, but as their hearts became closer their bodies became closer, so eventually his fur kept her warm as well as the fire. 

"Oh interesting," Gertrude said, trying to encourage Belle to say more, "and how is that going?"

Belle smiled. "It's going well. He's very intelligent."

"Has he told you his name, yet?" Belle complained to Gertrude before that the Beast kept too many secrets. She liked to think she did not care about his secrets any more, but as she and the Beast grew closer she seemed to care more about his secrets. He would never tell her what he was prince of, and he would never tell her the details of his curse. She deduced it was a curse, that he was disgraced in some way. She did not know, but she used educated guesses. How else could she know? 

She sighed, all these thoughts roiling around in her head, "No. He is annoyed that I ask it of him."

"Well, sweetheart," Gertrude said as she bounced and thumped to the bed from her wall post, "there's more than one way to tame a Beast." The Wardrobe began to search through her own drawers in earnest, and drew out a red dressing gown. Belle's eyes widened as she took it. Thin as a wedding veil, the gown was scarcely opaque with a low neck, long sleeves, and bared shoulders. 

Belle stood. "But...I don't think..." but she already was doffing her day attire. She did not finish her objection, or even start one really, but the Wardrobe answered anyway.

"Listen, dear. It's obvious too the entire household that you care for the Beast," the Wardrobe put her wooden arm on what would be her hip if she were human, "and if the only thing holding you back from love is that he won't tell you his secrets, why," she leaned in conspiratorially, "you'd better get those secrets!"

Belle smiled a small smile. Still innocent, she expressed to Gertrude that she had no idea how to even use the gown once she put it on. That's when Gertrude gave a low whistle, and Belle turned toward the opening door that admitted Babette the duster. 

Babette gasped as the red gown fell over Belle's petite hips. "Ma Belle," she gasped, "it's beautiful! Like a glove!" Babette rushed over and inspected Belle from ever angle, even requesting that she be lifted onto the bed so she could inspect from higher up. She clicked in approval, and looked up waiting for Belle to speak.

Gertrude spoke instead. "It's what you thought, Babette. She doesn't know what to do."

"Oh!" Babette lowered her lashes demurely. "Well," she slid over on her feathers and brushed up against the part of Belle she could reach: her hip. "This is first, and hmm," Babette leaned against Belle lightly, "this is second. He will be confused, but if you keep leaning into him the Beast will get the picture eventually. He is a man under all that fur, and he will understand."

Belle bit her lip in thought. "But that's another thing," she had read a lot of things about this, "how would it even...? You know, how would we...would he...?" Belle blushed red as a hearth fire, and could not finish the question. They just let her stammer until she stopped making sounds, and smiled at each other like mothers cooing over a babe.

"If it comes to that," Babette said, "then I'm sure you can let your intuition do the work for you. Just remember what you're there for." 

"I don't know if I should..." Belle trailed off...

Gertrude handed her a robe to wrap around herself as she made her way across the castle. The Beast slept in the West Wing, from which she was verboten, but as long as she was cautious - not like last time - she should be okay. 

"You should, sweetheart! You should!" Gertrude insisted, and smiled as she pushed Belle to the door. Before she knew it, Belle was closing her bedroom door behind her and making her way down the hall toward the West Wing.

She heard a cough, and looked down to see Lumiere standing at her feet. He bowed low. "I am here to escort you, Mademoiselle." 

She followed him down winding passages, stairs, corridors, until he stopped in front of a pair of large double-doors. They were decorated with a leaf-pattern on the trim, and a coat of arms she could not quite make out in each center. 

"Do not knock," Lumiere suggested, "Just enter."

"But..." Belle nervously flicked her eyes over the doors, "what if..."

Lumiere seemed to sense exactly what frightened her and chuckled softly. "Do not worry. We are not in _that_ part of the West Wing. You will be fine. Just...do...what they told you." Lumiere scratched his head with one of his candlesticks, and bowed to her again before he left to walk back up the corridor. As his light vanished, Belle felt very alone, and suddenly very cold. He left her with no way out: there would be no way she could make it back the way they came without getting lost. She wondered briefly if Lumiere had planned it that way: so she could not become too scared at the last. 

She pushed the left door: it would not budge. She pushed the right. A little more pressure than she initially applied and she had it open so she could just slip in. She let it fall closed slowly, and turned around to face the new room she had never seen. The Beast's bedchamber was not barren, nor was it warm the way hers had become. He had a four-poster canopied bed, a large window overlooking the castle gardens, a desk with papers and books on it that had probably not been touched in ages, two wardrobes, a dressing room off to the side, a claw-footed tub in the corner near two washbasins, and a hearth fire. The fire most interested her, because in front of it was a high, wing-backed chair upon which the Beast lounged. She crept a little closer and smiled to see that he was trying to read the book she had been teaching him. When she was far enough away that she could jump back if he were angry at her presence, but close enough that the atmosphere might be intimate, she cleared her throat and watched his ears perk up.

"Belle, what are you doing?" The Beast kept his voice soft, a warning and a welcome in the same question. She tried to pick apart this mixed message, but she ran out of time as he said "Belle?"

She shivered at his voice despite both her over gown and the hearth fire, and stepped closer. She had not startled him, so she doubted he would lose his temper. "I was cold." The first thing she thought of to say didn't seem like a terrible excuse.

"Why did you not get one of the servants to light you a fire?" He was obviously not looking at the book any more, but he had not turned to look at her. She continued her steps until she was right behind him, and reached out to put her hand lightly on his shoulder. She only brushed his fur, but she saw him stiffen. 

"I wanted to see you," she whispered. It was close enough to the truth that she thought he would not catch her in a lie. She _had_ wanted to see him again. She sank her hand onto his shoulder and rubbed deep into his fur slightly. She may have been mistaken, but she could swear he let loose a small purr. He placed the book on the table beside his chair, and he gripped the arms to turn to her. 

This turn had the effect of moving her hand to his chest, where she grabbed the fur to steady herself under his movement. She felt his warm breath on her arm as he exhaled quickly. His eyes stared into hers, into her soul, blue into blue. She had been captivated by his eyes ever since he'd rescued her from the wolves. They were quite possibly her favourite physical part of him, and she could usually read them. He seemed confused, as he had every right to be, and hopeful, which in turn confused her. Why would he be hopeful? Had he been wanting her to come to him? Had he been...? 

"Oh my," slipped past her lips, as she drew her hand away. Immediately she put it to his face, realizing she may ruin her entire mission if she let him get the best of her. He wasn't even trying, and she was letting him. Even if he had been wanting her, he was too much of a gentleman to seek her out. She had to come to him. That said something, didn't it?

"I, er," she stammered as she caressed his cheek, and leaned into him like Babette told her to do. Closer and closer to his face she loomed. She suddenly realized she didn't know how to go about kissing him, and with this startling realization she fell into him. 

"I...I'm sorry," she muttered at his "Oof!" She tried to push herself off of him, but the Beast grabbed her and turned her so he could more easily pull her to him. She didn't fight more than a second, and then she settled back into his fur. It warmed her, and provided her with a cushioned embrace. 

"Are you warmer now?" He whispered to her. Her ear tingled with his breath, and she nodded vigorously. His giant paws were around her waist, and she sank into her living pillow. They sat like that for some time. Belle did not know how the Beast felt about the position, but Belle felt herself begin to tingle all over with anticipation as his paws moved up to the tie that fastened her over gown. She held her breath.

He paused. "May I?" The Beast asked this hesitantly, as if he did not actually know what she would say.

"Oh!" She suddenly pushed herself up out of his embrace and turned to face him. "Please, allow me," she exclaimed, a little frantically, and she untied the three bows that tied the over gown together, pulled it apart, and allowed it to pool around her ankles. She almost felt wanton as her body was studied by her Beast: her bare shoulders, her slim waist that the dress hugged. She felt provocative, and some of the doubt she felt over this night melted away as he stood to look down upon her.

He reached for her, a single claw grazing her collarbone and neck. It was not painful. It actually felt quite nice, and she felt her tingling sensation begin to concentration lower and lower in her body. It traced her neck, her shoulders, and along her neck line. His other paw came up to cup her cheek, and she closed her eyes and buried her face in his paw. Her breathing became faster, and she could feel him purr. 

"May I?" He spoke, and she opened her eyes. He was not looking at her face, but rather at her bosom, and she looked down to see that one claw putting the barest bit of pressure on her neckline. Any more pressure and it would rip. He was asking if he could rip her gown. Her breath quickened and her loins squeezed tight, and she gulped nervously as she gave her consent. Belle had not realized until that moment just how long she had been waiting for this.

A quick rip and the thin red gown pooled on the floor with the other. She was made bare before him, and she struggled to not try to remain chaste somehow by covering her most intimate parts with her hands. She just stood there and consented to be studied, as he made a thorough study of her. His claw retraced its way up and down her neck and shoulders, around her bosom, down her cleavage, down her abdomen, until it reached the top of her most private place. She sucked in breath, honestly not knowing what he would do. 

He growled low in his throat and made her yelp as he grabbed her around the waist to carry her to the bed and throw her upon it. The act knocked the wind out of her, and she coughed once. Twice. He seemed to not hear as he leaped on top of her, burying her in fur. His body was along hers then, and she felt the largeness of all of him. He was three times her size and thus almost three times her body weight, but he did not crush her. She only felt herself sink into the mattress under his sinews and muscles. His claws were digging at her skin now, and as she gasped she found she enjoyed the roughness of it. His face went down to meet hers, but she only was able to kiss his cheek before he realized he could not kiss her. He growled angrily and put his face to her neck to lick it. 

The Beast licked most of her, and scratched her with his claws, moving lower and lower until her loins ached for him. His head between her legs, he ran his big tongue up her clitoris, and she gasped and clutched the bed under her, not knowing how else to respond to the sensation. He licked her there several times and in the process snagged her with his teeth as well. She had to bite her hand to not cry out, though he did not actually hurt her. She responded to his passion with passion, and bucked her hips up as he pleasured her. He scratched her and bit her and she would probably feel and see those injuries in the morning, but that didn't matter; all that mattered was how it felt that night! 

He rose above her and tried to settle himself on top of her. She could feel his hardness but he did not see able to do anything in that position. She heard an angry growl before she was flipped on her stomach and lifted to her hands and knees. She was startled, but never said a word to stop him. His fierceness ignited her, and she did not want it to go away. It occurred briefly to Belle that she was a virgin, but she wanted this so badly she barely gave that a second thought. Until he leaned over her bottom and put himself at her entrance. The stark reality of her virginity hit her and she read enough books to know where this was going. Loathe to stop him, she just clenched her teeth and let him drive into her. The sound he made was absolutely animal. Primitive. She cringed at the pain but quickly succumbed to the pleasure of every pump into her. 

The Beast leaned over her, his breath on her ear, riding her hard and fast. Heat pooled. Her eyes almost stopped seeing. He became rougher, and rougher, and her voice became more high pitched as she breathed out with every thrust. Finally, she screamed, and he yelled his final growl. She collapsed onto the mattress when he slowed himself, and he collapsed and rolled off of her, still letting out ragged growls as they both tried to catch their breath. 

She turned her head to look at him, and found his eyes already staring at her. They held an admiration and lust that she had not seen before. Above all, he looked extremely satisfied.

"Belle," her name was a whisper turned purr, and she grinned.

"Oh Beast..." she answered, and moved forward until her naked body was enveloped in his strong embrace. She closed her eyes as he softly caressed her back.

She was almost asleep, and then wafting over her ear like a light breeze, she heard, "Call me Adam."

She smiled and sighed. What a lovely night.


	4. My Soul for Yours, pt 1 - The Little Mermaid/Hunchback of Notre Dame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariel is a captive mermaid in a travelling carnival. Frollo falls in love/lust with her and sells his soul to make her human.

Ariel:

The sea was gorgeous. Looking at it from the shore, it sparkled red and orange under the evening sun. She sighed wistfully as she waited for her father. Once a month, King Triton always came up to the surface to visit with his youngest daughter whom he lost to the land. They talked about the past month, what they had done and would be doing, what had changed and stayed the same. Ariel always came to the beach alone, because she and her father only saw each other that one time, and they cherished it. No sisters. No husband. To protect the merpeople, they had these meetings at nightfall, and night had almost fallen. This month she had one thing she needed to tell the king that would change all their lives.

"Good evening, daughter," Triton said to her as his head bobbed to the surface. 

Ariel smiled. "Good evening, daddy!" She waved merrily, dismissing her worries. He looked the same as ever, though every time she came to meet him she was afraid he might look different. Older. 

They conversed: he told her about her sisters' endeavours: the latest one to get married, or even news of Adella who decided to go to university to study marine medicine. Adella wanted something different from the rest of her sisters, but unlike Ariel decided against the romantic path. She performed well at school, apparently, always getting top marks over many of the mermen in her classes. Aquata and Attina had been married for over a year, and Alana had been proposed to this past month. At the news, Ariel clapped her hands together in delight for the romance! Andrina had recently broken the news to Triton that she was attracted to merwomen. At first, Triton disapproved mightily, wondering how she would have children or even how she would ever marry! At Ariel's comforting and constant reminders that Triton was, in fact, the king and could change any marital laws he pleased, he loosened up and tried harder to accept his daughter's romantic inclinations. 

Finally came Ariel's turn to announce her news. "Ahem," she cleared her throat. This would be more difficult than she thought. She had not even told Eric yet! "Ahem."

King Triton raised his eyebrows. "Ariel, what's wrong?"

Ariel smiled and shook her head. "Nothing, just..."

"Just?" 

Ariel walked the short way into the water to meet her father, not caring that her dress would be ruined from the salt, and flung herself around his neck. "Oh daddy," she cried, laughing, "I'm pregnant!"

"My word!" Triton gasped, and wrapped his arms tight around her. Then he pushed her away so he could look into her eyes. "My first grandchild?" 

Ariel nodded, then looked beyond him to the sea. "I...I have a small favour to ask."

"Anything, little one." He stared into her eyes with a fondness she missed since deciding to become human. 

Ariel gulped. "Since I'm pregnant, and soon going to be unfit to do this, could you..." she trailed off.

"Ariel?"

"Could you turn me back into a mermaid? Just for a little while. I miss the sea, and would like to see it again before I can't anymore." There, she said it all at once, so she wouldn't have a chance to take it back, and waited for his reaction.

Silence reigned for quite a few minutes as her father studied her. Finally, he broke into a soft smile and nodded. "Have you told Eric?"

Ariel shook her head. "He would just worry. I told him not to expect me back tonight, because we have a lot to talk about. I could come back tomorrow!"

Triton seemed overjoyed to have his daughter back in her natural state, and they swam to the palace together. She greeted her sisters, met their husbands and one fiance. A feast was prepared slapdash because she came home so unexpectedly. Finally, she found exactly who she was looking for.

"Ready to go on another adventure, old friend?" She whispered to Flounder as she snuck up on him. 

He jerked around abruptly and when he saw her flitted in excitement! "Am I ever!"

One sunken ship and a few reefs later, Ariel and Flounder swam around in all their former glory. Ariel broke her news to him and he was overjoyed. They were both so distracted, Ariel did not even notice when she swam into a net. "Ariel!" She heard Flounder scream and as she tried to struggle out she was held tighter. "I'll get help!" Flounder swam off, and Ariel felt the drag as the net rose up to the surface. Out of the sea and suspended in midair, she gazed down at her captors. Humans who were not so dangerous to her when she was a human were definitely a danger now, and she screamed and yelled threats at them until her lungs were sore. She screamed and she screamed and she screamed until one of the men had the presence of mind to hit her over the head with a pipe, and she knew no more.

**Frollo: 

Another carnival, really? Frollo had no interest in attending these frivolous and often insipid events, but as minister of justice he was required to inspect it. The news arrived that morning, and he sneered at the bearer of it. As he approached with his guard and his horse, he saw the many-coloured flags and costumes that marked a gypsy camp.

The carnival seemed quite standard, these people had no creativity: fortune-telling, gambling, games, jokes, prizes, puppet shows, and at the end of every day a parade. Frollo arrived in the morning and aimed to only spend a few hours. "Judge Frollo, look at this!" One of the guards pointed to a sign that said 'Strange Wonders of the World: Come see the amazing Fish-woman!' Frollo sniffed, following the guard through the curtain into the tent, prepared to turn up his nose at whatever he would find.

He never prepared himself for what he found, however. Inside the tent, a metal tub of water stood with an iron cage surrounding it. A woman's head lay over the lip of the tub, her bright red hair cascading down to brush the wooden boards her captors laid underneath. Her lips were pale pink, though they had a hint that they were usually red and full. Her eyes were closed, and she looked extraordinarily pale and worn. Frollo edged closer and put his fingers to his lips as he gazed upon the rest of her body. The upper half of her body was bare, her breasts pale and round just under the water's surface. The bottom half of her body must have been why the gypsies called her a 'fish-woman.' It was dark scaly green, and did look like the back half of a large fish. It could have been a skirt she wore if not for the way her skin seamlessly turned into scales, and the end of the tail had two translucent green fins. 

The woman did not move, and Frollo thought she might actually be dead, but he could see her breasts rise and fall slightly with her breathing, and every now and again she sighed, probably out of resignation and misery at having crude men shout suggestive things at her. Frollo curled his lips in disgust, more at the men than at her, and stood silently staring at her still form. He did not know how long he stood there until a guard tapped him on the shoulder, notifying him that the carnival was closing for the evening. He turned, startled, and walked out of the tent. Sunset. How long had he stared?

That night, as Frollo lay in bed trying to sleep, he could not stop thinking about that girl. The next day, discreetly and alone, Frollo went to the carnival again to visit this creature. And the next day. And the next. Every day he paid the coins to get into the gate, and every day he sat in the straw staring at the creature. He could not remember what he thought about, as if he lived in a dream. He knew, however, that when he pulled at night on his shaft he thought of her breasts and her skin, her hair brushing against his skin and her full lips all over him. If only she could do everything to him that a real woman could.

On the seventh day, the last day of the carnival, he decided he had to have her. Whole. Human. He crept away from his chambers again, and to the carnival, but instead of going to the woman's - _his_ woman's - tent, he went instead of visit a fortune-teller's tent, paying the monumental fee to enter. 

"Ah, the handsome gentleman would like to know his fortune!" A woman came to him swathed in black which covered all of her except her old face.

"Nothing so simple, crone," he told her in disgust. "I need your magic."

The woman stood straighter. "What magic will you need?"

"That woman, the 'Fish-woman,' in the tent. I want you to make her human." 

"She'll be of no use to us if she's human," the woman said matter-of-factly. 

Frollo grinned slyly. "I plan to pay a heavy sum for her."

The woman scratched her chin in thought. "You may have yourself a deal, but I would need the payment before I change her."

"Easily done," Frollo announced, and pulled a pouch of gold out of his robes to throw in the dirt at her feet.

The woman licked her lips as she bent down to pick it up, and her eyes gleamed as she weighed it in her hand and sneaked a peak inside. "Well, then," she murmured, "Well, then."

"So?" Frollo stomped his foot impatiently. "Do we have an accord?"

"I think we do, sir," the woman looked up at him. "I think we do. There's just the small matter of the magic in question."

A pause. "What is it?"

"Changing the fundamental nature of a being is a very strong magic, and for a human to perform such magic a sacrifice must be taken."

Frollo exhaled in impatience. "Go kill a dog or something, but give me a human woman!"

"The sacrifice is not so simple, dear," the woman moved out of her tent, motioning for Frollo to follow. They walked across the grass field to the tent with the fish-woman, and entered. "What we will need for this," she took a ring of keys out of her pocket, located the correct one, and opened the cage, "is your soul."

Frollo thought the idea ridiculous, that would be taking the place of God, so he agreed to it. He never believed the woman could actually take his soul. He entered the cage as she closed and locked the door to it again, and knelt down beside the fish-woman. He cupped her cheeks with his hands and ran his finger over her lips, agonized that they could not be together sooner, agonized over the fact that she felt so cold and seemed in such ill health. 

"Do it now!" He growled at the woman. She seemed taken aback, but nodded and put her hands into the water and onto the fish-woman's tail. 

"Be prepared, Claude Frollo. You may not like what happens next."


End file.
